The Sharper I Feel the Sharper I Am
by Perdition Raiser
Summary: Here's a little purgatory!Dean oneshot that I wrote because we all know Dean shaved in purgatory. Cas had a full beard but Dean miraculously didn't grow one for an entire year? Here's how I pictured it. Also some cute/sad brother stuff as well.
**Here's a one shot that I've been wanting to write for a while. I will be updating my chapter stories soon** _ **I PROMISE**_ **but now that I've got an ass load of free time I NEEDED to share this with you. Hope you guys like it! :D**

Dean had given up counting the days he'd been in Purgatory, instead he managed to figure out the difference between the day and the night. The daytime was foggy and most of the time the air was crisp but sometimes there was a humidity that made it hard for even monsters to breath. The night time held a darkness that you could feel. If you closed your eyes you could see it swirling around underneath your eyelids. The air was cold and sharp, and even the trees were silent. Nothing moved around at night, any living thing that was smart would wait for the light to come, what little there was of it.

It had been one of those days where it felt like he and Benny had been walking for days when in reality it was hours. The arches of his feet ached and his boots felt like cement blocks chained to his ankles. His fingers were beginning to cramp from keeping his fist clenched around the hilt of his machete for too long.

"You got an idea on where we're campin out for tonight?" Dean asked gruffly.

"Why, you getting tired back there, human?" Benny asked in reply, tossing a smirk over his shoulder.

"I mean we can keep going but the first foot that falls off is gonna be what I use to bash your head in."

Benny chuckled dryly, "Don't get your trousers in a twist, brotha. There's a river about five yards out, we can stop there."

Another torturous twenty minutes later Benny turned left onto a small clearing next to a river that was probably too loud for Dean to sleep next to. Luckily he wasn't getting too much sleep anyways so he wasn't too worried about it.

Benny leaned against a tree as he watched Dean immediately plop himself on a log that sat on the edge of the river bank. Dean took a bounty knife from the inside pocket of his leather jacket, then removed the stone that he'd been using since he'd been there to sharpen his knife out of his front pocket. At the first sound of metal grinding on rock Benny looked up from staring at his shoes.

"Why do you bother?" he asked Dean, "Ain't no one here to judge you cause you got some whiskers."

"It's not that," Dean said dragging his knife across the stone in slow deliberate motions, "I don't mind the dirt and the grime and the blood, but if I don't shave I feel…foggy? The sharper I feel the sharper I am."

"I gotchyah. I never really had that issue, with my uh, vampire reflexes and all."

Dean snorted, "If you don't thirst for blood here are you sure you've got your reflexes?"

"If I don't, I guess I'm better than I thought I was."

Dean finished sharpening his knife. He blew on the knife gently before holding it up to look at. He held it so close to his face that he could see his breath fog up the blade. Turning it side to side and gazing at the blade for a moment he lifted his thumb to run it gently along the edge.

Benny trudged over, his heavy footsteps were the only sound aside from the river for miles. Sitting down next to Dean on the log he rested his forearms on his knees and watched as his companion shaved.

Dean ran his fingers over one cheek before slowly carving the hair from his skin. Benny could hear the prickle of every hair as the blade chopped each one from its pore. It was a slow and tedious process that took time and practice. Benny didn't mind, it was almost hypnotizing, watching such a domestic and repetitive act occur in such a blasphemous place.

"How'd you get so good at that?" Benny asked as Dean started on the other side of his face.

Dean shrugged before starting in on his cheekbone, "I always shave with my knife. Closer shave and I don't have to buy razors. Usually I have a mirror though."

"People buy razors?" Benny asked.

"That's right, you're like, super old," Dean said with a chuckle, "I don't even think they sell normal straight razors anymore. They're cheap plastic things."

Benny nodded, "Knife sounds like a better choice to me."

"Sammy shaves with a knife too but he always nicks himself. Big oaf can't even trim his stubble without bleeding."

"Your brother." Benny muses.

Dean nods, "Slow down, Sammy, I used to tell him, it's not a race."

"I'll get you back to em' brotha."

"I know you will."

Dean was finishing up and then rinsed his face in the river. The dirt and grime and blood that accumulated on his skin had served as the best shaving cream he was going to get. The skin on his face had leathered itself so much he wasn't sure if he could even get razor burn.

"Lookin handsome." Benny grinned.

"Thanks, you ain't too bad yourself."

Before Benny could reply Dean had rushed over behind him to stab a leviathan in the neck with his shaving knife.

-x-

Amelia woke up to find herself alone in bed. It was five in the morning and Sam was standing in the bathroom shaving. She could see him from where she was sitting.

"Sam? Are you _shaving_?"

"Uh yeah," he chuckled, "It was starting to bother me. I get…antsy when I've got whiskers."

She shivered when her bare feet touched the wooden floor but padded over to stand behind him in the door frame anyways.

"Are you using a knife?" she asked, even more confused than before.

Sam held it out with a grin and nodded, "Yeah, I guess that's kinda weird huh?"

"Just a little bit."

Amelia took his wrist and pulled it closer so she could get a better look at the knife. It wasn't just some run of the mill pocket knife, this was a combat issue buck knife.

"Is this silver?"

"Yeah," he said when she let go and he returned to shaving. The shaving cream slid right off the blade and plopped into the sink, "My dad, he uh, he taught us how to shave. He was in the military, said knives were better. Closer shave and you don't have to buy razors."

"Us?" Amelia questioned, "You and Dean? Your brother?"

Sam nodded and hissed lightly when he nicked himself on the chin. Shaking his head with a fond smile he pressed a piece of tissue to the tiny wound.

"Dean was always better at this than me. He never cut himself. 'Slow down Sammy, it's not a race.'"

Amelia smiled sadly up at him, "I wish he could come back to you." She told him resting a hand on his bare chest.

Sam laid the knife down on the sink and pressed his hand over hers.

 _If only you knew,_ he thought, _He will come back, I don't know when, but he will._

 **So that's it! A nice little ficlet about dem brothers and shaving and purgatory!Dean whom I love with my entire soul. Read and Review? Send me requests! Brother ficlets, destiel, Dean/Jo, you name it! I'm open to almost anything. One Love. Liz.**


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